My Last Breath
by Isabel Juno
Summary: The full impact of a Deathbed Confession


Authors Notes/disclaimers: READ & REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is my first House ff so please i would really love feedback not so subtle hint hint! and i don't own house... if i did... Huddy would rule the hospital with an iron fist!!!!!

My Last Breath

By Isabel Juno

The sharp noise shattered the monotony of the late night medication carts be wheeled lazily to their destinations. As the noise entered her ears it ricocheted like a pinball hit with ten times the necessary force. She looked down the hall to the office it had come from.

"House." That was all she could manage as she saw a figure in a black hoodie dash from the office as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. For all he knew they may be. She bolted down the hall, not something easy to do in heels; at least she'd forgone the skirt today. She wrenched open the door with unnecessary force and her voice caught and whatever she'd been about to say died in her throat. So much blood, it was terrifying. And the bloods owner lay dumbfounded, his limbs askew and coughing.

He glanced up from his attempt to staunch the blood flow from his stomach.

"Help." There were no sarcastic comments, only an earnest plea. That terrified her more than the sight of all his blood staining the floor. She fell onto her knees by his side and in the ever-increasing pool of his blood. She pulled his hands off his wound with some difficulty. She could see the muscle and tissue shredded by the bullet and she could already tell that nothing could be done. It wasn't going to happen like that though, she told herself determinedly. She pressed her hands down hard, covering the wound. His hands were soaked in his own blood and they moved to gently cover hers. She shifted her gaze up too his face and saw the conflicted look in his eyes.

"You're going to be fine." She told him firmly.

"Liar." Came the accusation softly. She stared at him wondering how he knew; he couldn't see the wound like she could.

"You're crying." He whispered, his voice growing ever fainter. She realized it was true as one of her tears dropped free from her face to splash on their hands, diluting the blood soaking them.

His eyes read the pain and fear in her features and also something else. The inevitability of his cause and how she wouldn't give up. She'd never given up on him. He knew he was going to die and wasn't so much afraid of death as he was afraid of not saying goodbye to her, Wilson, and Steve McQueen. Well one out of three would have to do. He'd just ask her to tell Wilson and Steve his goodbye messages. The thought of her bending down and talking to Steve almost made him smile. But that would hurt like hell and he sure as hell wasn't getting anymore painkillers. Oh well, some vices have to be left with the living he supposed.

"Lisa." Her eyes snapped to his. He never called her by her first name. His face was unbelievably pale. She knew what he was about to say and she couldn't let him say it. It was too painful.

"Any minute help will come and take you to surgery." She told him this even as her own heart sank as she took in the massive blood pool forming around them locking them into their sinking little ship as he died. She was a doctor and knew how much blood should be in the human body but this still seemed ridiculous, like god was torturing her with this. Burning it into her memory like the tears were burning her eyes as she watching him struggle to stay with her.

"I need to tell you…"

"No, shut up. You can tell me later."

"I've never fancied the idea of being a ghost… even though it would give me some awesome peeping tom abilities."

"You're not dying. You can't." The last sentence was barely in voice at all; maybe one's ears become more sensitive before death because House heard it and looked sadly at her.

"Everybody dies. We don't get to pick when. We can try and prevent it and all the same there's no holding it off forever." The tears were making a hot trail down her face and House wanted to wipe them away. He hated to know he was the cause of them. All the same he knew he was powerless to stop them. He needed to tell her. It was now or never and all his cards had to be laid on the table for him to die contented.

"I have three things I need to say." He murmured and as he spoke he noticed the world was beginning to swim in his vision. Terribly distracting, he thought. Cuddy was just staring at him, the tears flowing unhindered.

"First off, tell Wilson he can have any of my stuff he wants." Cuddy just looked at him incredulously. He took a rickety breath.

"Second, tell Wilson he better take care of Steve or I'll come back from the dead to kick his ass." She managed a hysterical laugh this time. He gave her a weak smile and stole himself for his last statement.

"Third and most important…" He paused, fear rising in him or maybe that was the onset of oblivion, he shoved it back regardless. Now or never. "I think I love you and I just thought you should know that." Not terribly poetic, but death confessions never are. It's always upstaged, he thought. Besides, he didn't have the energy to think of anything more eloquent. His words seemed to make their point and also had the unfortunate effect of making her cry more. Nothing he could do about it now though. He was fading to fast and as the blackness enveloped him for all of time he heard the words that let him die a reasonably happy man.

"I love you too Greg." She sobbed even harder as he let out his last breath and left her.

READ & REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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